Making you Sing nsfw NickxF sole
by Falloutthoughts
Summary: Nick and his lover find pleasure in the idea of an ongoing roleplay for the bedroom. Involves dominant female sole and light bondage - tease and denial play.
1. MyS Scene 1: Confrontation

Unexpected pleasure. These would be his first choice words for describing the evening he'd had.

Role play was one of his better known kinks with the lovers he – or rather, old Nick – had had. The investigator and the spy or the prisoner routine was a popular one for those who'd wanted to play along but it was rare that any of them got deeply into their character and less often still that he found himself on the receiving end.

He looked down to his lover who slept soundly against his bare chest. His thumb traced circles over the smooth skin of her shoulder. His muscles still ached.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy playing the dominant role – the detective, but it was nice to get to be the villain for a change. To try something a bit different and he'd sure as hell let her do it again.

He played over the evening in his mind, a swell of arousal rising with the fresh memory.

She had asked him that morning what he was 'into' and after telling her truthfully he'd watched her lips curl seductively, her fingers entwining in his tie. She had offered him a scenario and he'd quickly warmed to it;

'The crooked cop who had been involved with the smuggling of drugs and weapons, blurring evidence and keeping his gang off the radar being found out by one of his colleagues. Said colleague confronts him and 'presses him for information on the gang'.'

Then she had released him, her lips barely a hair's breadth from his own. Ellie had arrived for the day's work not long after and he had spent the entire day in a limbo between a deep carnal desire and deprived frustration.

The latter was the more dominant occupant of his senses by the time evening arrived and Ellie had gone home. He prided himself on his self-control and reservation but after the hype of the morning she had lured him into with that seductive purr and the light teasing and touches she had subjected him to almost tactically throughout the day he was beginning to feel more than a little pent up.

He had retired to his bedding area early and had quickly found his arms lifted and bound. He looked up to see a set of handcuffs had been hooked over one of the steps leading to the upper floor, his hands clasped on the other side making it impossible to move far or sit down.

An unexpected display of ingenuity as he'd fully expected to find himself strapped to a chair or the bed frame. A smirk tugged at his lips and he closed his eyes clenching and unclenching his hands as he let himself grow accustomed to this new situation.

She brushed past him from behind leaving a craving in his form when she parted. He opened his eyes to see her standing before him, her eyes peering sternly at him from beneath the brim of her hat.

"I know what you're up to Valentine," she snarled. "And I know your pals down in Quincy plan to make another drop soon. Where. And when."

She moved in close, her face in his and her breath licking at him. Her face was taut and beautiful with the harshness of her features and he felt the smirk upon his lips tug deeper.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about doll," he drawled feeling the laid back and cocky attitude of his own character take him.

"Oh you know," she accused him dangerously. "And before the night is over you **will** sing for me."

He'd heard the harshness of her voice before but never directed at himself. It had a unique effect upon his body making his skin grow in sensitivity and his muscles quiver. She came close to him as she circled him but her form barely touched the clothes he wore and the deprivation of true sensation was maddening.

"Then I hope you brought your dancing shoes," he retorted wearing a mask of calm. "Because you're in for a long night."

She moved from one shoulder to the other and when she stopped her nose brushed along his own, her lips almost pressing to his. "Oh. I have all the time in the world _Mr Valentine_."

And then she was gone, her breath lingering only briefly against his face.

She turned her back to him and removed her coat and hat throwing them down on the bed. The shirt she wore beneath was tight fitting and the braces to her trousers only served to frame the breasts that lay beneath.

His groin ached unattended and he swallowed with a dry mouth, his heart pounding.

"Where will your friends be meeting Mr Valentine?" she asked, her tone far more casual now – the 'good cop' routine taking precedence.

"Annie's Dinner." An imagined lie, his bemused features would tell her so. "Every Friday. We like the pies."

Her hands moved to lay flat upon his chest, her palms pressing to his nipples through his shirt before she abandoned them to instead slide up and loosen his tie.

"Where will your friends be meeting? .. _Mr Valentine_?" she asked again and he felt the hair raise on the back of his neck.

"Sorry doll. Men only this time. Maybe I can convince 'em to a women's night the week after."

Her hands stroked the line of his jaw and along his neck causing him to supress a shiver. Her fingers began undoing the buttons, opening up his shirt.

For every lie, more of his clothes were loosened and she asked him the same question again with increasingly seductive tones and tormentative caresses and touches to his already aroused and needy body.

His member had swollen and had been left to relax a number of times this day and by the time she had him stripped to his socks, his shirt hanging open about his shoulders serving to hide nothing of his exposed form, the denial of touch to his more sensitive areas was serving her with agonising effect. It was a physical and mental effort now to keep himself from panting, his muscles straining with protest to the endless teasing.

Raising his head he glared at her – his glowing amber eyes holding onto his defiance. This was now a battle of desires for his character role. Raw physical need verses the pride of retaining his secrets.

The look seemed to please her, her smile widening as she pulled a ribbon from her pocket. It was a deep red with what looked to be a small weight attached to it. He eyed it curiously.

A sway to her hips she moved towards him, her eyes raking across his body, defiling all rights to privacy and decency. He failed to suppress the shiver this time and he felt his body twitch once again, his manhood stirring.

She reached down and he almost made an audible sound of wanting at the thought of near relief but her fingers did not brush against his skin. Instead he felt as the ribbon wrapped around his length, the weight being allowed to drop offering him a sharp 'tug' when it bounded in the air.

This was a new and strange sensation. It offered little in the way of stimulation and yet it hung there as a constant, physical reminder of his body's cravings as his erection fought to stand against the weight holding it downward.

Against his will he found his own body lifting at the hips experimentally whilst she turned to fetch something else from her drawer trying to see if he could angle the weight and tie to offer more in the way of respite and pleasure.

When she returned to him his attention was brought back to her, and more importantly the item she was carrying. It looked like a baton; wooden, polished and smooth. A few thoughts entered his mind and he was uncertain if he ought to be worried or excited.

A little of both maybe.

Circling him again he felt the cool, hard object make firm, unpainful contact with his rear. He grit his teeth as the jolt sent the weight bouncing slightly again tugging at an organ that yearned for attention.

"Perhaps I have been ungenerous," she mused and he could feel his cheeks being explored by the smooth surface of the baton. "Perhaps a trade would be a little more enticing. You give me what I want, Mr Valentine, and I will give you what you want."

The hard length slipped down between his legs lifting his balls. His breath hitched in his throat and he needed a second to gather himself for his defiant response – the strength no longer quiet behind his words even to his own ears.

"There is nothing I want."

She laughs lifting her chosen toy to gently massage his perineum. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his knees to hold him steady instead of buckling as they so desired.

"Oh I think otherwise," she purred.

Greater pressure was applied, the toy lifting to press and stroke firmly behind his sack. Had it always been so sensitive there? Or was it a glitch to his programming? And how did she know about it?

He could feel his chest rise and fall, his breathing heavy and his head fell back. He had waited for this yet all too soon the pressure was removed and he could hear her shifting behind him.

Before he could commit to protesting or retaining his silence he felt her fingers stroke down between his cheeks, something warm and oily coating them. His breath stilled once again, his usually quick mind turning summersaults as it tried to catch up with this turn of events.

Fingers gently probed him sending strangely pleasant tingles throughout his thighs and groin. She kept up her administrations falling into a gentle rhythm before removing them and replacing them with the narrow end of her toy pressed against his rear.

The muscles of his torso tightened solidly and he turned his head just in time to meet hers as her chin came to rest upon his shoulder, her free hand resting palm flat against his abdomen – a sign he remembers her earlier stating that she was acting out of character for the moment.

"Try to relax.." she whispered to him, her lips laying a gentle kiss upon his neck. She made no effort to enter him and he knew from their earlier discussion that the utterance of their safe word would have her untie him.

He took a moment, levelling his breathing and trying to let his body settle. Her hand rubbed a gentle circle where it lay and her voice offered softly spoken words of advice through this new experience.

"Bend at the knee if it helps, but try not to tense up.."

He breathed out a lengthy sigh feeling his body entered, his walls parting to make way for this determined guest. She pressed in and held it there a moment before he felt the item retreat entirely allowing for his muscles to settle and readjust before she went through the process of entering him again, this time her hand removed and their characters resumed.

There was something there. Something unexpected. A pleasure spot he was not even aware he had possessed.

His balls ached heavily now, his breathing uneven pants and his senses thrown into chaos.

She pressed in against his prostrate earning a moan from him. A repeated motion is adopted, gently at first as he grows accustomed to the sensations within his own pent up body.

Already he can feel his shoulders shaking, his hands clenching tightly to themselves, restrained from grasping anything else.

"Are you willing to talk?" she asks him holding pressure still on his sweet spot.

Speech came difficultly to him but he held his head high shaking it. "I have n-nothing to say!" he stated.

The response was a hand reaching around his torso to rub lightly over a risen nipple. Gods.. when had they become so sensitive?

The movement against his prostrate picked up again, his hips began to rock to the motion, the weight swinging with the motion and tormenting his manhood cruelly.

She gave no mercy in her invasion of his body and at the point his knees started to threaten rebellion again she stopped and pinched at his nipple a little more. He winced biting his lip.

"…?"

Not a word left her lips but the question held in the air between them and he was too far gone to feel shame of turning in these imaginary friends of his. He invented a time and a place, his voice deep and raspy.

Her hand stroked his chest fondly the motion picking up again, this time with more vigour. The jolt of electricity seemed to shoot up his spin, his back arching back and his muscles stretching out with an orgasm that seemed to span most of his body.

His cheeks clenched and she helped him ride this new wave of pleasure before coaxing him to try and relax again releasing the chosen toy safely to be set aside.

He felt his lungs battle for air and watched her move in front of him. He smiled to her expecting her to untie him but there was something in her eyes and instead of lifting up to free his hands her arms instead moved to drape around his neck.

Her nose pressed to his but she refused him the kiss he had hoped for.

"Now then. I want you to tell me 'who' I am likely to find there," she stated and his eyes widened. They were still going?

Taking check of himself his member throbbed. It still remained firm, the rear orgasm seemingly having a separate effect to the usual release. He swallowed, his body was already tired.

"I.. There.. No one," he lied feebly, his mind battling for coherent thought. "It's long past their curfew," he adds attempting a smoother response.

Her hand slips down across his neck and chest, down his hip and along his thigh. She slowly collects his balls in her palm and then squeezes.

"You know I don't like surprise parties. I'd like to be able to cater for everyone," she persists.

"I'd love to introduce ya but they're a shy bunch. Don't like strangers much."

"Oh but I can be so very friendly."

Releasing him her index and middle fingers move to 'walk' their way down his length. It twitched in want and he sighed with long awaited pleasure as one of those fingers stroked lightly past his sensitive gland and along the head.

She petted him lightly allowing the tension to build before removing her hand completely and leaving him hanging loosely once again.

"…." He turned his head not willing to speak their names.

Her hand wraps around him and draws him out sending a violent shiver up his sides. His lips part but no sound reaches the air.

A repeated motion is broken only occasionally when her hand reaches instead to massage the tip. Her head moves to his and her tongue strokes up his cheek. "Tell me.." she whispers to his ear and he grits his teeth against the desire to do so.

Pulling away she descends, her breath soon resting against the flesh of his molested manhood. Her tongue flicks out again, this time to run circles around the head, catching the glands in soft repeated motion.

His legs part to give her greater access but as he nears release her fingers move to hold him tightly at the base of his shaft and he restrains a groan. Barely.

She continues by sucking on him lightly no longer bothering to ask her questions verbally but letting them hang in the air between him and his desired orgasm.

The strain burns deeply, his loins on fire and his shoulders ache from being held up for so long against the downward tug of his body.

"Goldie!" he calls out with some resentment. "Copperfield. Silvia…" He makes the names up through the fog clouding his better senses and he can feel her lips curl into a smile around him.

A deep moan escapes him as she takes him into her mouth, her tongue hooking around him and playing with him before her head begins to bob back and forth.

His hips buck and he wishes that he could run his fingers through her hair. Instead they have to content themselves with the metal chain between his restraints.

Her fingers release their hold upon his base and with a breathy call he feels his body free itself, his synthetic seed swallowed without thought or protest, her mouth moving to suck lightly on him until his wave of pleasure, more localised this time, has run its full course.

It is then that she lifted herself, this scene of what he hoped would turn into an ongoing roleplay as she'd suggested, ending.

She released the locks that bound his wrists and he immediately used his freedom to wrap his arms about her tightly pulling her into a long and passion filled kiss.

His words failed him but his eyes met hers warmly and she smiled drawing him to their bed. Sleep was her next interest and he was left with the appealing notion that the next 'scene' was his turn to take the lead.

What forms of 'revenge' would the corrupted 'Mr Valentine' chose to take on his alluring interrogator?


	2. MyS Scene 2: Quincy Lockup

Business had taken them far to the south through Quincy and the dangers that came with the territory.

This place had seen some drastic and violent changes to it over the years. The most recent and notable being the war the Minutemen had launched upon the Gunners there in an attempt to reclaim the area and make peace with their past failings.

Today however it was not the threat of bullets or thugs that saw the two move hastily from the streets but the Commonwealth itself. It was getting late, the sun very low in a sky that was turning a sickly yellow with the start of an incoming radiation storm. His partner had hoped that they would make it to the Peabody household for shelter but time was against them. Heavy drops of rain began falling plentifully to the ground and the winds picked up in a vicious howl.

Drawing his pistol Nick moved them swiftly between the labyrinth of decrepit buildings stopping only once the two of them rested safely underground inside the Quincy Police Lockup.

Irritably -and shaken by the storm- his partner headed down the stairs removing her sodden coat and hat. She filled an old waste bin with what she could find to start up a fire to keep warm and dry off whilst Nick hacked into the computer to get the old Protectron up and moving.

Sending the robot up the stairs to keep watch for them he removed his own wet outer garments and watched her as she tried to clear out the far end cell and set up a place to rest. It didn't seem like they would be leaving until morning.

"Try an' sleep if you need to," he offered her knowing that this case had been long and stressful for the both of them. "I'll keep an eye out for any unwanted company."

The look of gratitude he received spoke volumes.

The night was a mercifully quiet one. The storm sounded very faintly through the thick walls but he knew it was there and presumed it was what kept the streets quiet.

His attention drifted elsewhere then, looking around a room that felt very vaguely familiar in its format and layout.

Interestingly enough the cells were still in very good condition given their age and the locks still held sturdy.

An idea sparked within his mind, his mouth tugging at the corner in a slow smile. He had been waiting for an opportunity to present itself and the location, he noted, was far too perfect.

Her eyes opened slowly. It hadn't been the most comfortable bed she had slept in but it had been dry and safe. She glanced over to see Nick still sat in his chair by the terminal and smiled tiredly in silent greeting.

"Mornin' doll," he offered in return. He sounded pleased about something.

Lifting herself and stretching she moved quizzically towards him, stopping suddenly when she found her path barred – literally – by the heavy iron gate sealing her cell shut.

She tried again to push it open and then looked to Nick with greater confusion.

Nick grinned at her lazily from his seat, lifting up his hand to reveal a set of keys hanging loosely about his fingers.

"Sorry that the guys couldn't stick around but they had to find a new supply route. Seems their old one got.. compromised."

Her head tilted. He couldn't possibly be suggesting what she thought he was. Here?

"The guys?" she asked him starting to pace leisurely along the ground before the bars.

"You know. Goldie and his gang. But don't worry doll. I'll be here to keep an eye on you."

She nodded, a soundless laugh of incredulous disbelief passing her lips. Still, if he wanted to play dangerously then all the more a thrill for her.

"You can't keep me in here," she growled at him, her glare piercing through the cage that held her captive. "Where is the guard?"

Nick's smile widened to reveal a few of his teeth in a lopsided smirk. "He took the night off. Seemed he was more than happy to let me take over his shift."

"You?" she scoffed. "You aren't fit to wear that badge!"

"But I still wear it," he reminded her. "Interesting to know that in your report about the raid you pulled here in Quincy you stated that your 'witness to the crime taking place' chose to remain anonymous. I never knew you cared."

She feels a hot flush of embarrassment wash over her. She couldn't very well tell their commanding officer 'how' she came about the information she'd gotten out of him but that meant that she also couldn't have him arrested for his participation in the crime.

Seemed they were at a stalemate then. Both had ample blackmail on the other.

"Let me out," she demanded. The grin remained and she turned on the bars, grasping them between clenched fists. "Let me out now or so help me!"

He chuckled, his voice reverberating pleasantly against the empty walls.

"Is that another promise doll?" he teased taking deep pleasure in the flush he inspires in her followed by her continued aggravated pacing. Like a caged panther, he mused to himself.

He leans back on his chair watching how the broken light flickered against the crumbling cement. "How did you word it last time… You give me what I want and…"

"What do you want…?" she asks cautiously bringing his eyes and his full attention back down upon her.

"Oh. I'd just like to see you make yourself comfortable," he tells her, his eyes drifting slowly over her form.

She takes a double step back cautiously looking him over herself, confusion marring her pretty features.

Nick had to marvel at how perfectly she put on the trapped, innocent little flower act. He knew damn well, and from experience, that this wasn't how she responded to having her back to the wall out on the field.

Lifting himself he moved over to first cell where their coats hung up drying. From an inner pocket he pulled out a parcel wrapped in cloth and brought it back to her with no concern for the time it took.

Not wanting her to get a hold on him he motioned for her to sit back on the bench and then threw the parcel to her feet.

Intrigued she picked it up and unwrapped it, her eyes widening and turning on him sharply when her fingers folded around a familiar object drawing it out.

Nick reclaimed his seat, moving it to sit himself more central to the cell and leaned back, his arms folding as he looked on at her expectantly.

A mottle of outrage, surprise and lust command her features and in response he simply raised an eyebrow folding a leg over one knee and toying with the keys in his hand.

A decision seems to be made within her character and she shifts, a sigh escaping her before her eyes lock with his in a lewd stare.

Resting down the toy he'd stolen from her drawer her hands raise to her own collar, loosening the buttons.

"Take your time doll.. The night is still young," he tells her in a soft but unquestionable demand. He wants to enjoy this.

A brow of hers lifts coyly but her hands slow. She pops each button with one hand, holding the seam of her shirt with the other and peeling it back to reveal her hidden flesh a sliver at a time.

From his chair Nick maps out to memory each curve and contour of her body as her fingers move to stroke along her exposed throat, over her ample bosom and down the line of her torso.

Her breasts are snug within the confines of her bra, the lace casting interesting patterns upon her skin where the orange hue of the fire light dances against her. Catching the direction of his gaze her fingers move to hook around the cup, drawing it down only a fraction before releasing it, denying him the sight and instead taunting her own nipple through the fabric.

The hand that had traveled south along her belly applied pressure to her groin through her trousers and Nick held himself still through the prick of arousal in his own loins training his features into an expression of idle interest.

Through the worn fabric he could see mounds raising beneath her fingertips and permitted himself to imagine privately how her breasts might look beneath the dim light of the flame.

Reaching up he grasped the wire to the fallen light and tugged it swiftly free of its power source ending the constant flickering and casting the two of them into a darker room which was filled only the amber of the crackling fire and his own hungry gaze.

She grinned, pleased that he was already showing signs of enjoyment to her display.

Lifting herself she moved to shrug off her shirt but was halted once more by the command of his voice.

"Leave it on. But the lingerie can go."

He watched as she settled back down, leaning and flicking free the straps from the body of her underwear before her hands curled around to unhook it at the back.

He wasn't making it easy he knew but it only fueled the allure of watching a beautiful woman undress and he enjoyed the way the shadows of her shirt cast over her body like a soft silk.

He could imagine the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips; warm, firm. And even from his distance her scent drifted to him, enticing him to move to her. He resisted, instead taking delectation in the desire of her.

Hesitantly, shyly, as if none had before born witness to the sight of her she drew away the shaped cloth from her chest and his body roused with interest. The darkness rested heavily beneath each soft mound in stark contrast to the light flickering above presenting them to him with a deep pang of lust.

He hummed his approval, a smile gracing his lips and he reached to his pockets to remove a cigarette, lighting it and breathing in deeply. It was something to keep his hands occupied knowing that if he attempted to touch her now, she would use the opportunity to escape the confines of her cell.

"Tell me doll," he purred on the exhale of smoke. "What do they feel like..?"

Her character would never admit to it but the sound of his voice was craved as much as his touch, his scent. Her eyes fell closed, her lips parting slightly as the sound drifted lazily to her ears. But he was tasking her to a response and so it would have to be her own voice that next filled the awaiting air.

"Soft…" responded reaching a hand to stroke and then caress her own breast. Her thighs tightened feeling a need for pressure elsewhere as she did so but her hands where preoccupied with their current assignment.

She cupped and lifted one squeezing lightly. "Heavy.. but supple. Smooth, then.. hard and tender," she continued, her fingers returning to toy with an unprotected nipple.

"Sensitive?" he prompted, surprised to feel how sensitive his own nipples where becoming against the fabric of his shirt despite that they had not been touched all evening.

"Yes.." she responded, her bottom lip being caught shyly between her teeth.

"Pinch it for me."

She did so, catching the risen nub between her fingers and wincing slightly. It brought a melody of both pleasure and pain and she repeated the motion again.

"How do you taste?" he asks repressing the urge to shift in his seat so that his weight presses on areas further south.

Obediently her head lowers and her tongue flicks out and over herself, her words broken between strokes as she describes to him the pleasures of her own body.

He notes the moment her hand slips inside her trousers, her fingers moving in circular motions at her crotch and the light thrusts her hips make towards her palm.

"There are other things I would like for you to tell me about," he comments. He knows the effect his voice can have on her so he keeps it as low and as close to a growl as he can, watching with satisfaction the small tremors it causes to run through her.

"You.. can't.." she protested weakly. "Someone might-"

Her eyes flick towards the door down the hall but his gaze never moves from her. "Filthy little girl like you would probably enjoy that right? A few more eyes to the audience of your misbehavior."

There is a definite flash in her eyes there and he makes very certain to commit it to memory. He didn't talk dirty very often but if it was going to have an effect on her as he was seeing now then he would make absolutely certain that he started to.

"No." she argued and he leaned forward in response, his eyes boarding into her, reading her with ease.

"No? I think that if I were to explore a little lower sweetheart that, that body of yours would be singing to me a different tune."

Another quiver erupted through her at the suggestion in his tone and the intensity of his eyes glowing against the shadows.

"You certainly didn't seem to mind the idea of any visitors when you strung me up and tasted me freely." He allowed his lips to curl into a smirk as he watched the memory of his flesh on her tongue take her.

"Show me.." he barely whispered and to his delight her knees fell loose, drifting slowly outwards and drawing her thighs apart.

Her hands unzipped the binds slowly, the button released some time previous and her thumbs hooked the waistband to draw them down leaving naught but a feeble cut of lace to defend herself from his thirsty gaze.

One hand moved to stroke her body whist the other ventured in to stroke beneath the lace. She attended herself with practiced ease and Nick felt his shoulders stiffen, his cigarette brought once again to his lips as he wished that instead his tongue could be elsewhere.

"Don't forget your friend," he commented leaning back again and folding his legs to hide the bulge that strained between them. "I brought them all this way to play with you."

He'd fanaticised about this for a long time. Had decided fairly soon after their 'first scene' what it was he wanted to do with her but the place and the time just hadn't occurred until now. He wondered what she'd think of him for carrying it around like this.

Whatever those feelings where it wasn't enough to discourage her from reaching down and picking up the toy. She ran it along her body enjoying the feelings of texture and sensations it created against her skin.

"Imagine it is me…" he instructs her following up with a chuckle and an added thought. "Be gentle."

Her eyes look to him in bemusement but the toy lifts up her body and along her jaw. Her teeth graze the tip of it followed by the length before her tongue washes over it in a motion similar to the one she had made to his head.

He grit his teeth and it took a great effort in control to remain seated and to refrain from touching himself.

She closed her eyes, and the idea that she was losing herself in the memory of him did things to him that he could never admit aloud for the sheer embarrassment it would cause. That anyone might find out that he could come completely undone at the mere thought of her like this made him shiver with unnamed emotion.

Her fingers grasped the strap of her undergarments and tugged them down and free. Nick took no hesitance in his act of looking at her, a pride and an excitement growing in him as he noted just how arouse she was.

Her womanhood was moist and swollen, her clit peeking out from between her lips practically begging for him to come over and taste.

"Seems that your body does not lie as easily as your words. What does it feel like to be touched there?" he asks, his mouth sucking in another drag of smoke.

She releases her toy and private fantasy to answer, her fingers venturing back along her thigh to caress herself.

"Warm and.. wet. Thick and- ..sensitive. Like small sparks of electricity."

"Show me," he commands.

Her fingers slip inwards and draw apart exposing her clitoris to him. He can see her hips and thighs twitch and imagines that if he rested his hand there for long enough he would feel her womanhood twitch and lift for desired attention also.

The toy moves down and her body thrusts up slowly to meet it as it slides along her own delicate tip. He imagines meeting her in such a tender union with his own length even as it goes neglected and bites his lip at the sound of her moan when she pushes it to her entrance.

Leaning back she lifts herself, holding herself apart that he might find a decent view of her self-administered pleasure. He imagined what it would be like to be the one holding that rod and pushing it deeply into her and made another mental note to try doing so in the future.

Her actions moved to his commands. When he demanded that she move gently her motions drew the toy in, allowing her muscles to swallow the hard, thick rod enveloping around it before drawing it back out almost entirely from her body before lifting her hips to accept it inwards again.

When he told her to move fast she thrust the item quickly and deeply into her body with a repeated circular motion to her hips.

He took careful note of the different effects and sensations he made her describe to him. Deeper was more painful, more heated but it also made her pant more, made her back arch more in an effort to reach ever further as the pain also triggered violent waves of utter bliss.

Slower was more pleasant, like a gentle massage that was relaxing and comfortable. He felt like he could watch her like that for hours before climax risked the end of his show.

He noticed that when she moved slower that her free hand drifted between exploring her body; focusing along her neck and breasts with occasional touches to her clit whilst faster, deep thrusts had her torn between wanting to rub her aching tip or apply a heavy, constant pressure to her abdomen.

He lifted himself from his seat moving up to the bars. He had no risk of her reaching out to grab him now as she had no sense left to do so and the higher position helped him get a much better view of her writhing body.

"Let me know what it feels like. Let me hear it as you finish it," he demands of her knowing now that his voice sounds right above her.

Willfully or not she moans in response, her breaths harsh and her body rocking heavily against the item bringing her physical pleasure. Hard and deep but slow thrusts seem to be her most desired motion during orgasm and he feels himself shiver to the sound of her call, unrestrained in the otherwise silent room.

He breaths out his last inhale of smoke, dropping the butt end to the ground and snuffing it out with his foot as she regains herself, her own breathing taking its time to settle.

"Thank you sweetheart," he tells her with a smug smile. "Seems you were right. You are a good host."

Her character draws the shirt around herself for the sake of useless modesty given her recent deed and glares at him as he turns to collect his coat and hat.

"What are you doing? Open this door!" she snarls at him. He looked over his shoulder with mock confusion before 'remembering' the keys and lifting them to the air.

"What? Oh no, I don't think so."

She watched him as he hooked them up on the wall at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes flaring. "We had a deal!"

"Yes. I believe I said – 'you give me what I want-'," he stops and with fury she realizes that is also where he stopped when this imagined 'deal' occurred.

"You son of a bitch!"

Nick chuckled in genuine humor producing another cigarette from his pocket. "Well I can't very well have you following me toots," his character told her, his cocky attitude back in full force. "Jerry will be here soon for his own shift. I'm sure he'll open the door after an amusing tale or two."

A huff and a few colourful curses followed him up the stairs as he headed on outside to check on things. He wanted to make sure that the storm had stopped and that there were no Gunners prowling the area.

Their scene had ended as the door closed behind him and he knew well that he'd probably suffer for this last little trick in the next given that it was now 'her turn'. It only made him more eager for that day to arrive though.

She could pick that lock easily enough, he'd seen her do it many times before and if not he would return to check on her and let her out after he'd finished his cigarette.

He breathed in deeply, offering a satisfied smile to the sky. Today was going to be a good day.


	3. MyS Scene 3: Medical Interrogation

How was it possible to go through life knowing so little about your own body?

He supposed a great deal of it was to do with how willing a person was to go out and experiment with things outside of their normal comfort zone. He knows that if he were to live for yet another lifetime he never would have 'chosen' to do the things she did to him.

He would not have gone to the hidden side of a town to one of the clubs designed for such experimentation – before or after the war – and he never would have 'asked' any of his lovers to do such things.

His humility and self-reservation alone would prevent him from doing so. But such was the purpose and nature of this role play. When he and his partner made love they did just that – they made love. They would kiss and they would embrace. They would stare deeply into the other's eyes and hold to one another snuggly.

When they made love, as lovers, it was about the emotion. It was all about building that bond of oneness between them but when the role play aspect came into things it was purely about the lust. It was about letting go of pride and modesty and he found himself much more capable of doing this when he felt he was playing through the heart and mind of another individual.

An odd thing to try to explain but his partner seemed to understand this about him regardless. Something to which he was endlessly grateful.

Codsworth held command of Home Plate and ensuring that Shaun was well cared for whilst the two detectives headed over to Vault 81. Investigating the caravans in the area was their task and he was grateful that the Overseer had granted them this room within the Vault after the deeds they had done for the inhabitants there.

It was nice to be able to relax with little concern for raiders, ferals or other unsavory characters disrupting your rest via a loaded pipe pistol or a set of teeth.

His partner had returned to their room first. He didn't mind. It was a conversation with a caravan guard that he could relay to her later yet when he returned she was nowhere to be seen.

The curtains where drawn across the little window to the room and over on the desk he found a note addressed to him.

'Taking advantage of the showers,' it read in her normal handwriting and then below in a more italic script was written a block of text that made his core rise in heat.

em'Weeks pass after the trio escape from their jail cells and go into hiding.

Officer V heads to the local clinic for his annual medical check-up as is expected from all law enforcement officers in his district. The doctor takes his blood pressure and checks his heart rate before asking him to lay back on the bed to the centre of the room.

A little out of the ordinary but the doctor surely knows what they are doing and watches him with a clinical calmness.

Officer V complies only realising the mistake in his trust when he awakens to find his limbs tied to the four corners of the bed.

Looking around he tries to recall the events that lead to this. The doctor's face was that of a stranger but the ID tag they wore had looked real enough to him. They had said something about a vaccination injection… That it might make him feel a little drowsy..

He tried to shake off the edges of false sleep and his eyes focus just in time to see the door open and a more familiar figure appear before him.'/em

~ Whitechapel (SW)

Nick looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was around. It was late and most of the Vault dwellers had returned to their own rooms by now. Still, he moved to close the door before investigating the bed.

Drawing back the covers he found hidden beneath the sheets four fabric binds each knotted to a corner of the bed. He felt a knot of nervousness in his gut realizing what his partner was expecting to find upon her return.

It put him in a vulnerable position if for some reason anyone else walked in before her but..

He checked outside once again, peering briefly behind a curtain before tugging it back securely.

Undressing he used loops in the fabric to tie himself down as described. It wasn't something anyone would struggle to wriggle free from if they wanted to but it didn't matter. It was just a prop to set the scene.

With a shiver he lay his head back and waited. He couldn't help but wonder at the time what she had been planning since he'd had his turn locking her up in that cell in Quincy but he never would have been prepared for it.

He had some time to himself before his partner returned. He was relieved to see her and her alone stood at the door when it slid open and she looked him over with a satisfied smirk before closing it behind her.

Damp hair had been tied back from her face which granted him the sight of all the expressions and emotions that played over her attractive features. That she had chosen to change into a lab coat didn't escape his notice either and he felt a shiver run down his spine as he tried to imagine what his character would think about this situation.

"Y'know.. I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure there are laws against this sorta thing," he decided to open with finding his role settles more comfortably with backhanded comments and sass than trepidation or panic.

He finds his reward in the slight wrinkle of amusement to her nose and a coy twist to her lips.

"And here I thought you enjoyed the idea of waking up imprisoned," she returns sauntering over to the far side of the room.

"Does seem to be a growing habit," he admits watching her curiously.

She reaches her desk where a mug of hot water sits upon a hot plate. The steam rises in light waves as she stirs the contents a few times before setting it aside closer to him but still out of reach.

Her eyes glide over him and despite that she has seen him nude many times before there is something intensely erotic about her doing so now. Bound as he is he has no luxury of privacy or defence to where her gaze falls and there is a growing hope that approval shows in her eyes as she examines him critically.

As before she takes her time the wait no less agonizing. His hands twist about his binds in an effort to keep himself occupied and the result is her leaning in to tighten them, a clip fastened to each wrist to make it harder to escape or roam.

With his chosen distraction gone all he is left with is the sensation of his body and the need in his senses made no easier to control when she sits herself beside him on the bed.

"So… Since we have this opportunity for another – intimate – little chat. How about you let me in on the new hiding place for all the chems your little friends 'acquired'?"

Her tone balances the delicate line between dangerous and seductive perfectly and he feels the words seep in through his skin taking over his blood* as if silk flowed through his veins.

He reined in an involuntary shiver. "Not a chance doll! You think I'd be fool enough to make the same mistake again?"

"Mistake?" she purred. "I don't think it's a mistake at all. Your body certainly wants to share your secrets with me.."

As she speaks her hand caresses his collar, stroking down his torso to his groin which twitches to life. He can't deny her claim when his manhood reaches out to her as she stands and walks over to the other side of the bed.

He remained silent.

Her hands lay upon him once more, this time his shoulders. Her fingertips drifting over him, exciting his senses as she shamelessly explores his shape and form. It is a pleasant sensation yet she purposefully seems to avoid the areas he would most like to feel her touch.

Her hands trail along his thighs leaving a path of fire in their wake and while she comes close, very close, the contact never ventures to his eager length. Her eyes however never leave it.

She had watched as his manhood had risen and she watches now as his muscles knot and tense helplessly in wanting but without freedom to claim his own desires.

"Found any of them secrets you're looking for yet doll?" he asks with bemusement at the situation. She's meant to be the one pressing him for information and yet she looks like the hungry one right now.

"A few," she responds through a grin. "It tells me the locations I need without protest, such as here.. and here…"

As her fingers run over the particular spots on his abdomen and thigh he certainly feels the betrayal of his form. Small bolts of electric expand from those areas offering pleasure and greater need both.

"You could have just asked – I can tell you where I want you." He can feel the smirk on his own lips growing.

"There's only one location I want to hear from your lips Mr Valentine. I shall be directing my other questions to the rest of you."

"Oh? And what questions are those?"

Her eyes burn into him almost making him shiver. Her hands lift and the lab coat is slowly un-buttoned and slipped away from her shoulders.

A heavy exhale of breath escapes him as he denies the sound of the groan that would otherwise have taken its place. He recognises the underwear from Quincy only now minus the bra.

His hands clench with an urge to stroke those soft mounds and he loses himself in her scent when she kneels down on the bed beside him.

Fire and its burning tingle once again rises in his body as her hand presses to the softest point of his torso and rubs it soothingly, the little rings she traces with her fingers slowly venturing lower and lower.

"So.. you like what you see?" she purrs, her eyes watching his body for every twitch and tremor.

"You-"

Whatever witty remark he tried to air was silenced by her fingers on his lips. What made it worse was that she had removed the hand venturing to where he wanted it to place that finger there.

"Shhh.. I wasn't asking you. Remember. There's only one thing I want to hear from those lips."

The hand returns to that soft point on his torso and she begins again. Finally catching on to this cruel game he grits his teeth. This was a denial of freedom that he hadn't expected – if he spoke, she'd stop and he didn't want for her to stop.

Strange. He'd never associated his own voice with sexual tension but in this manner she'd made it so. She now held the power of his voice as well as his body and something about giving her this control, being completely at her mercy, was highly erotic to him.

She'd not forbidden him sight though. Her breasts rested openly to him serving to fuel his desire. Her hand brushed against his wanting manhood and a moan turned into an almost whimper and a quiet curse when he discovered that none verbal sounds also resulted in her letting go and starting over slowly.

He grit his teeth and glared at her for this new torture but she just smiled. She was in no hurry.

It took all of his control to keep in any sound when her hand finally closed around him again and began pumping him lightly.

"So.. any thoughts on that location yet?" she asked him casually watching the flesh move beneath her palm.

"N-gnn!"

He cursed to himself again. He'd almost answered no before strangling the word in his throat. It was enough of a displeasure to her however for her to release him leaving him panting and throbbing. He'd been so close to release..

This time her fingers trace the outline of his knee playing idly along the dimples there as his body calmed down, backing away from the edge leaving his balls aching.

She then began again, this time the small circles venturing up from his thigh and, again, any sound he made that wasn't the location of these hidden chems resulted in her removing her touch from him and starting anew from his knee and thigh.

It was maddening.

The game of tease and denial continued thrice and each time resulted in her bringing him to the edge, asking him for a location and then refusing him release if he failed to comply.

On the fourth run he was controlling the sounds he made with greater dedication – though with no greater ease. Her hand this time had drawn down from his shoulder, abusing his nipple as it passed before claiming his now painful member.

His length throbbed and burned and his balls ached. Her fingers caressed his head, brushing against the sensitive tip and she looked to him once more.

"Well..?" she purred.

"Uh, Cambridge! Ngh-uh.. Bunker Hill!" he responded urgently struggling to come up with somewhere through the fog of his mind and the scream of his body.

To his absolute dismay her fingers drew him to the point of no return before removing all touch from him regardless.

She watched his pleasure-less release with an unreadable expression. It was embarrassing to see himself twitch with each struggled spurt of synthetic fluid and when he looked to her for answers he was met with a raised brow and a look of disapproval.

"You're lying," she stated simply. "You hesitated and my contacts at BADTFL think it's further south."

He grit his teeth, frustration and disappointment both gnawing at him. His groin ached and she shifted herself moving to lay alongside him, her chest crossing his as her fingers now came to play with his jaw.

It seemed like she wasn't done with him yet and he wasn't sure if he felt relief or concern for that fact.

"You are being very difficult Mr Valentine.. I don't like secrets."

"Perhaps you're just not asking the right questions sweetheart," he responds finding his words to be a tad sharp from the prevention of his expected pleasure.

She spends a few moments playing with his features and he has to wonder if they're still playing in character or not until a bemused smile greets him and her fingers brush over the seam of his lips.

"I'm not a difficult person to get along with Mr Valentine. You just need to give before you receive."

Lifting up from him he expected her to straddle him from what she'd just said but instead she stands and returns to the desk picking up a thin rod – the one he'd thought to have been a stirrer earlier.

He feels the item press lightly to his cheek, still warm but suitably cooled. The smooth texture of the rod is run over his lips and with a well-trained clinical expression donning her features she leans in over him.

With the recent torment and molestation to his body and a small recovery period the act has a strange effect on him. Desire and frustration still holds a place within him coupled with the painful ache in his loins.

It keeps him from relaxing fully and when the rod presses against his mouth he can't help the parting of his lips nor the motion of his tongue meeting it.

He'd never known that his mouth could be sensitive in this way. Closing his eyes he tries to imagine it's her breasts that he suckles on, that his tongue strokes lavishly.

"But perhaps you are right," he hears her speak in an almost whisper and there is something in her tone he finds vaguely threatening, vaguely thrilling.

"Perhaps I am not asking the right questions. I should really make a 'deeper' investigation."

Unsure of her meaning by that he opens his eyes, the rod drawn from his mouth and the sound of her heels clicking against the polished floor as she makes her way to the end of the bed.

He watches her take a comfortable seat upon the bed between his legs and feels his muscles tense with expectation. His desire grows though his arousal is lazy. She touches his member anyway, stroking it lightly – a mocking insult to the state she had left him in but not something he could do anything about with his limbs tied.

Lubricant is applied to the rod and he wonders to himself in confusion her choice of toys this time. Certainly he'd had no complaints about the one she'd used on him back at the agency. This one was hardly thicker than a small knitting needle and flexible given how he'd been able to bend it in his mouth.

The lubricant coats her fingers and she reaches down, his heart stalling when she strokes the tip of his weakened length instead of pressing to his rear.

Satisfied she lifts the rod and places it to the hole of his manhood. Lifting him up she doesn't push but instead allows for gravity to draw the rod in down the inside of his shaft.

He feels his eyes widen and his chest hitch. There is no muscle there to contract, there is no defense he can enact against this intrusion as the sensation of the rod reaches in proving to him that no part of him is safe.

The safe word she had given him at the end of her letter holds at the very tip of his tongue but he doesn't use it. He's not sure why.

This he had not expected and he was certain that if he were not bound in place he would have grasped the rod in hand and pulled away. His toes curled instead. He felt exposed and violated. It felt foreign but.. not unpleasant and the powerlessness against her will stirred something within him.

Perhaps that is why he kept the word at bay and instead called out an incoherent sound, letting his head fall back.

His thighs and torso tensed in an unconscious effort to control the invasion of his private most features but to no avail. He raised his head, panting heavily with unspoken sensation as she now began lifting the rod and dipping it in down his urethra.

Nerve clusters he wasn't even aware that he possessed responded to this impossible touch and much to his shame and disgrace he caught himself more than once lifting his hips in an effort to thrust against it.

His member hardened beneath her touch and it felt like with each careful stroke she allowed the rod to fall a little deeper, sometimes stopping to just let gravity do the work.

It becomes clear why when she reaches her target. The touch to his prostrate feels intense causing his whole body to contract in sharp bursts of pleasure.

The tip of his length tingles from the inside whilst her fingers brush his outer sensitivities. Long delicate strokes return that painful need for release in full force whilst twisting the rod in a circle ignites virgin nerves.

The bed frame strains with the force with which he pulls on his binds, his knees wanting to lift, his arms wanting to grab her and pull her down on him. His voice, once forbidden to him, now fills the room and if we was in proper control of his faculties he would be worried that anyone outside or in the rooms around them might hear him.

She didn't even need to ask him this time. He felt himself drawing near and with the rod pressed firmly – almost painfully hot – against his prostrate inside his body and her fingers fondling his balls he needed only for her to lift her hand – to stroke up his length the once and he would be done.

It's all he wanted.

"Goodneighbor!" he called in a barely working voice. "A basement in Goodneighbor!"

Her hand gripped his length tightly. He could feel the rod ever more so now that she had restricted the space. She thrust it in and out a few times more causing his back to arch before removing it with careful haste and pumping his length in a firm grip.

His orgasm was not a silent one and he was thankful again for the thick, heavy walls of the Vault.

Her hand milked him for all he could give and he looked down to the mess he'd made in time to see her crawling up him and laying herself down against him torso to torso. She kissed him and he kissed her back heatedly. The roleplay was over, he knew this as they never kissed in character.

She doesn't unbind him right away but when she does he refuses to permit her to leave his embrace.

It was his turn next and he was sure that he could find a way to pay her back for all of this.


	4. MyS Scene 4: Good Goodneighbor

Trigger warning in this one out of curtesy. Everyone involved is of legal and sound minded consent but the roleplay scene they are undertaking walks a fine-line in the rape fetish region.

He'd thought long and hard about this next scene and his commitment to it.

Finding something to please his partner that was also a bit adventurous and stretching his normal boundaries was the aim – it's what they'd talked about the day this all started.

A scenario had presented itself to him one afternoon. He'd discovered his attention to opportunity had developed at interesting angles since this roleplay had begun and he'd been watching his lover speak with another of their little social circle.

Something about the way their eyes lingered between each other brought a wave of possessiveness and jealousy to him and in that was a peculiar sense of desire.

He wondered what would come of exploring that desire further and so after weeks of internal debate and then finally plucking up enough courage to approach their companion, Nick made his arrangements and left a message to his partner.

A note outlined the scenario; the trap that 'Mr Valentine' had set for her in Goodneighbor with 'Goldie' while a holotape made for her ears only left her in no doubt as to who Goldie was.

Now he just needed to wait in the old State House and see if she would show.

He had mixed feelings. A large, more romantically inclined part of him wanted to keep her to himself. Another, newly discovered part of him wanted to see her with another.

Her arrival had sparked the excitement part of him though he trained his features and demeanour well in front of their 'guest'. She made a point of brushing past him with a smile before greeting and joining the other in the cage.

Seemed there wouldn't be any awkward small talk before they got to it after all – another thing Nick had been conscious of.

He took a seat opposite trying to find his character in this scene as Goldie 'grabbed her.'

"Well, well lookit what rolled up. I'm thinkin' we can have a fun night with this one."

His face brushed over her shoulder holding her back to his chest, her wrists held in just one of his hands. He looked every inch the predator that'd just caught a long sought after prey as she tried in vain to pull away.

The grin drew out showing a large number of teeth. It was difficult to work out if he was actually 'in character' or not given how smoothly he fit the role. Nick decided quickly however that it was definitely 'in' character. Hancock was many things but while occasional torture may be deemed 'necessary' he knew this was a man who wouldn't even pretend to threaten sexual force on a genuine victim. It just wasn't his nature.

"Get your paws off me you crook!" his lover snapped at him, a snarl directed to the ghoul.

"Sorry darlin', but I don't think we'll be letting you leave so soon. You still owe us for all the trouble you've been causin'."

The ghoul tugged her back into his lap as he took a seat and Nick had been so focused on the tongue running over his lover's neck that he'd not even noticed the point at which Hancock had removed his belt to now bind her arms with.

Her act was one of a struggle but Nick recognised the moans on her breath to be sounds of need and pleasure.

Hancock's mouth travelled the plains of her throat and jaw with no fear of getting his teeth involved when he found a soft, sensitive section of skin to nibble at. One of his arms held her on his lap whilst the other ventured up along her torso groping at each breast before settling on which he wanted to fondle.

The man's skin was rough and Nick had to wonder what it must feel like to have the knots of tight, burnt flesh rubbing against her nipple in this way. By the sounds she made, it felt good enough.

It only took one hand for the ghoul to undress her and all the while he remained with her seated in his lap. He'd not just done this before. He'd done this _many_ times before.

Her last remaining vestments were discarded to the side and she held her legs together tightly as his gnarled hand stroked along her thigh.

"C'mon now darlin'. I'm jus' tryin' to be a good host to an uninvited guest but if ya keep misbehavin' I'm gonna have ta put you in your place."

Nick didn't miss the flicker of excitement that shivered over her features at his words, nor did he miss the effect that gravelly threat had on his own loins – and he wasn't even the one sat in the ghoul's arms!

He sat back crossing one leg over the other and pointedly ignored the flash of amused triumph in Hancock's eyes.

"Bite me!" she spat at him coaxing a low, hungry growl from the depths of his throat.

"Oh, I will. But not until you apologise for all the trouble you've been makin'," he responded with both promise and threat to his tone.

Before Nick could guess at what he intended from that his lover had been thrown sideways over the ghoul's lap, a yelp of surprise airing from her and a hand caressing her exposed rear.

Rough skin ran over smooth in wide circles giving her a moment to become accustomed to her new position before the first loud slap sounded out into the quiet basement. A gasp of surprised pain drew from her lips and Nick's eyes widened pinning Hancock sharply.

There was no move in those black eyes to acknowledge the synth and yet Nick _knew_ that somehow the ghoul was watching him, taking note of his posture and responses.

Not a touch or a whisper had been placed upon the detective and yet he could feel his body jolt to an intense and urgent arousal. Somehow the ghoul had just _known_ that this would get him going, had known just what buttons to press, how and when.

Nick could feel rather than see that Hancock was getting off on the fact that he had the both of them aching and wanting and the thought both maddened and aroused him. He'd fully expected to sit and watch from the side-lines as his lover was pleasured. But it seemed like the ghoul had plans of his own.

Another slap reached the synth's ears and he fought to control the depth of his breathing.

Between each sharp lash from his palm came a gentle stroke. The familiar circular motion across her buttocks and the indecent touch of his fingers over her swelling mound. Nick could see that she wanted to part her legs, give him access, but that her character resented doing so.

"Are ya gonna apologise yet?" he asked her, his fingers parting the lips of her womanhood idly so that the cool air could play upon her heat.

Her teeth clenched, her hair chaotic about her flushed face.

"You've got to be kidding me! – AGH!"

Another firm spanking resulted, her cheeks pink and swollen and with each stroke he would allow his fingers to dip and slide teasingly along her slit as he drew back his hand for another strike. The melody of pain and pleasure sung in smooth rhythm until she caved to his greater will.

"Alright! Alright I'm sorry!"

"Hm? What was that? I couldn't make it out against the sound of your pretty cries," the ghoul grinned leaning over her.

"I said I'm sorry," she repeated, the humility finding its place in her.

Rough fingers threaded through her tangle of hair drawing her head and shoulders back. He looked very pleased with himself as he ran a hand down along her torso emphasizing the stretch of lean muscle and flesh available to the synth that was having a difficult time to keep from biting his own lip.

"Now there's a good girl. How about we play nice now huh?"

Placing her down to her knees carefully Hancock stood giving her a moment to shake off the blood rush from being upside down as he pulled his own clothing loose.

He held no shame of the display of damaged flesh and wasted tissue and while he wasn't as much to look at these days Nick couldn't say he'd lost all of his youthful beauty. His frame still held a captivating posture with his stance and charisma and the light muscle was tight and firm – the well used body of a man still in his prime despite the obvious ravages of ghoulification.

Her breathing was still uneven as she looked up at him, her eyes moving to his face before lowering to the obvious task before her.

Hancock's orders were simple and precise and he spoke with an air of command few would dare to challenge.

Nick watched as his lover's tongue licked over the swell of another man's arousal, his own loins burning with a fierce jealousy.

His taste filled her mouth, the fingers in her hair guiding her movements. Her tongue drew along his mottled shaft seeming to find interest in the texture there and Nick lowered his eyes along her form noting how her hips lightly rocked. He suspected she too was guessing at what it would feel like to have such heated textures within.

Once again a possessiveness raged within him giving his shoulders cause to set and his jaw to clench tightly. His own manhood fought to stand firm and erect against the confines of fabric and muscle as he adjusted his legs to hold himself tighter.

And the ghoul didn't miss a second of it.

Hancock was dominating and it ignited every instinct Nick had to challenge and outdo him. _And the ghoul knew it._ He played on those instincts like the fine strings of an ancient harp daring Nick to make a move.

She moaned softly around the length within her mouth, aware that as she worked 'Goldie' finished off removing his own clothes. The situation felt tense and the scent of the air was already growing thick with their heat.

It was surprising how Hancock could be harsh and gentle both in his movements. Her head was drawn back by her hair and there was no mistake that she was to release him, her tongue already mourning the loss of his flavour, and all the while he made sure that his strict motions did not cause her any harm.

If Nick could be described as the firm, persuasive lover who used his strength as a cradle and a tool to mould her body as he melted her down with the sound of his voice and the gentle touch of his lips. Then Hancock would be better described as a rough and sensitive lover. The kind of man who push his bed mate to the brink of their limit, devouring their senses and guiding them to new realms of pleasure.

Both had their appeal and she was eager to taste the effects of both.

It was easy to play submissive to the ghoul mayor. His experience and manner ruled over whatever area he chose to be in and became ever more apparent the more comfortable he was with his acts and setting.

It was also easy to see the effects their little performance was having on Nick. Hancock drew her up to him, returning her to his lap and she complied wholly as he parted her legs with a hand running down each of her thighs.

She let a gasp of barely controlled desire escape from her breast when his fingers brushed over her clit and stroked her leisurely before her true lover's eyes. Nick was a man that valued his self-control and public appearance but sometimes that sense of how he 'should be' strangled out the small joys he could be letting into his life.

She wondered how much it would take for the two of them to break through that wall of his and coax him into enjoying more of himself even in the safety of their private little circle.

"There's a good girl," the rough voice purred into her ear. "See how much better things are when we play nice. Why don't you let us know what you're feelin' mm?"

"A-ah!"

He demanded and she complied. If he wanted for her voice in return for these blissful touches then she would fill the air with sound knowing that every moan and whimper would be heard by her lover sat only feet away from them.

Black eyes met with burning amber ones. Nick could feel the more heated of his emotions fuelling the building pyre within him as he watched those fingers explore domains only he could previously lay claim to.

Her body was shifted, her womanhood exposed and damp before his eyes yet it was another man's length that now stroked against her. Her hips moved to grind against him, the sensation of the curves and tangles of hardened flesh against her delicate nub both new and pleasurable.

It wasn't long before his shaft glistened with her moisture and a taunting smile played upon the ghoul's features. His gaze did not once part from the detective's when his tip pressed to and then ventured into her.

He felt her tense and arch against his touch. Heard her pleasure expressed without restraint and sensed the exact moment that Nick's restraint snapped. The only thing holding the synth to his seat now was him trying decide what to do.

"Nice.." Hancock purred. "Very nice… You feel great doll. But we're jus' getting' started. I think you still owe old Valentine over there a little.. 'compensation' for some of the stunts you've pulled."

Shuttered eyes and a flushed face turned to look to the synth as he stood and took in the sight before him. She looked gorgeous. She looked ready and he wanted her.

The hot glow of his eyes focused on her from beneath the brim of his hat and she shivered in response her lips already parting impatiently for his taste.

There was just something about the knowledge of being desired that intensely and he captured her chin between his thumb and finger forcing her to look up at him, wanting to enjoy that emotion in her eyes a little longer.

A smirk cocked his lips and his length was exposed. He no longer cared that the ghoul too could make an appreciative evaluation of it. It was her mouth that he cared for and releasing her from his grasp it is her mouth that dutifully began to work on him, suckling upon his tip before taking him in.

He could not restrain the sigh of relief as her head began to motion back and forth around him. Nor could he keep himself from threading his fingers through her hair, holding lightly to her skull while his own hips fell into a comfortable pattern with her.

The vibrations of her voice surrounded him and he could feel every moan caused by the ghoul's administrations tingle against the sensitive nerves of his tip. His own husky voice joined her sweet melody filling the basement of the Old State House with every evidence of their deeds.

He had to wonder how many of the neighbourhood watch were listening in on them and was surprised to find that only added to his aroused state.

Cool air caressed his dampened loins and he felt her body pulled back and away from him. Nick opened his eyes to see the ghoul once again shifting her position atop his own.

He had withdrawn from her and was now stroking his own length with a slick liquid.

"Your turn brother," he states stroking across her now vacant opening. "Only right that we all get a fair share, right darlin'?"

"You asshole!" she growled at him bitterly. She'd been only inches from tipping point and he'd chosen that moment to stop. "Ha-ah!"

A mottled hand grasped a still stinging cheek squeezing it tightly as his lubricated tip pressed firmly to the knot of her rear.

"Now don't be like that. Here I thought we were having fun. We are having fun aren't we?"

He pushed his tip in a little further forcing her ring to part for his demands and a strangled gasp escaped her.

"Aren't we?" he pressed wanting to hear her compliance.

She grit her teeth knowing that he was going to hold off on any true pleasure until she bent to his will. The man held at the very tip of her ring feeling as hard as steel.

"Y-yes," she panted feeling the second hand massaging her breast again. God that felt good..

"Then why don't you invite my buddy over here to join us? Mmm?"

Even the briefest moment of hesitation would not be brooked. He drew himself away allowing her ass to close and all the while she could feel his questioning gaze upon her, unwavering – demanding.

"In!" she rasped urgently, her eyes filled with lust turning to her lover, begging for his touch. "I want you inside! – Please!"

It was enough to ignite the base most instinct of any man and when a beautiful woman lay naked before him asking for a connection, Nick was of no will to do anything else.

He moved forward locking lips with her, finding his tongue too craved her touch.**

They broke only for air and so that Nick could look down to line himself up with her at this odd angle.

Her voice chimed with pleasure as he slid into the blissfully familiar caverns, feeling the lingering effects of another man's heat still within her walls. He body only tightened when the ghoul entered her from behind, her body threaded between them.

Hips bucked greedily against her, each man seeking his pleasure from her and encased between them this way she could sense the competition between two naturally very dominant men as they each simultaneously battled for and shared the attention of her form.

Hancock's mouth was once again upon her neck whilst Nick's fingers brushed her lips dipping in to gain the affection of her tongue.

Each male had his own rhythm and stride and she had to find the motions to accommodate both through the fog of lust and passion clouding her head. She wasn't sure which came first but the sense of their essences filling her, spilling out into her leaving their manhood twitching and easing within her was enough to make her body shudder tensely, electric devouring her nerves in a call of ecstasy.

Tired and panting her head tilted to press between the shoulders either side of her.

"That was.. somethin'…" she heard her lover speak lowering his body to rest more comfortably beside the two.

The ghoul chuckled remaining where he was. "What? That it Nicky? I thought this scene was of a captured dame? Can't imagine why it'd only last one round."

Nick looked up to the ghoul who was looking awfully pleased with himself. He could feel his lover's interest at his words shiver through her muscles though she said nothing – leaving the choice ultimately in his hands.

The synth looked to her face. Her cheeks where red and her expression was one of extreme content. He felt his heart warm knowing that his actions were the cause of such features.

"Well.. I guess you have a good point. I can imagine a thing or two I'd like to do with such a lovely prisoner."

Monogamous values aside he could not be disappointed with his decision. He might feel awkward around Hancock for a few days afterwards but the ghoul mayor wasn't known for being difficult to be around for long. And he certainly knew his way around women and machines.

** Oooo Nick done broken a rule. She didn't comment on that. But she didn't miss that either.


End file.
